Page 104 of Chasing Hope

you’ve been reading far too many of Layla’s dark romance books

LAYLA

this isall Cin

CINDY

correct

EVIE

wouldn’t be a group chat if violence wasn’t involved

LAYLA

I’m scared to ask what group chats you’ve been in before

Thump, thump, thump.

My poor tortured heart hasn’t stopped beating like a hummingbird’s wings since the moment Matteo laid his large, thick, calloused hands on my hips and placed me onhislap.

I wish my lips had the same vigor as my heart; perhaps then I could come up with something to say. I’m no stranger to Matteo’s silence but this one is weighted. Full of all the unanswered questions that brew between us.

What does this mean?

Why did you nearly kiss me?

How long have you wanted to do that?

Did you do it because you were bored? Or is it possible you also harbor a love we can never feel?

Does your heart skip a beat when I enter a room like mine does with you?

Do you get excited over the smallest of contact between us?

All this time…have you felt what I have?

My head is spinning. It hasn’t stopped since the moment he begged me to say his first name and groaned as if it were the most heavenly sound he’s ever heard.

Despite how it made my stomach flip, I turned into a coward, locked myself away in the bathroom as I got ready, refusing to step out of it on my own merit.

He had to come knocking, informing me we were going to be late.

And here I am, sitting beside him in the backseat of the Uber—still a coward.

The answer why is simple.

I’m fucking petrified.

Utterly terrified to seek the answers my heart so desperately wants to know. What if I look into Matteo’s forest-green eyes and see regret? Or worse yet, what if he turns around and asks me for something casual?

I’d pass away. I would break until I was unrecognizable.

The cheating, the betrayal, the friendship loss, the trauma—all of it would be nothing in comparison to how heartbroken I’d be if Matteo Valenti, the man I have adored and loved since I was a little girl, told me he regrets trying to kiss me.

So that leaves me with one option—ignore the poor bastard.

At least until enough time has passed.